The Beginning of the End
by Forgotten Roses
Summary: Joint Fic-Multiple PoV 6th year-The students return to Hogwart's after OotP. How will the events of last year effect the future? Please RR.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter doesn't belong to us, it's all JKR's, right down to the last Hogwart's broom cupboard… 

AN: Before we begin, we'll explain a bit about this just so you don't get too lost. This is a joint fanfic, written by both Roz (independently Stupid Man Suit) and Maddy (dark fairy fan). Each of us has taken on several Point of Views of major characters. Harry, Ron and Ginny will be written by Roz and Hermione, Draco and Cho will be written by Maddy. This may sound confusing, but you will get used to it, trust us.

Have fun reading, and remember, review it if you want us to update!

The Beginning of the End Chapter 1—Arrival   
Ron's PoV (Roz) 

The Hogwart's Express wound it's way through the countryside like a scarlet snake. Outside the frosted window, barren fields flashed past, slightly blurred by sheets of rain.

Our compartment was stuffy and cramped. Next to me, Hermione, and opposite, Harry, were both slumped back on the red, musty material of their seats, fast asleep.

By the sliding door at the other end sat two other people. My younger sister Ginny was reading some flimsy paperback, while across from her, Neville Longbottom chewed contentedly on a Pumpkin Pasty.

My body swayed gently with the motion of the train as I gazed out at the scene outside. It was so warm, so comfortable, that I could have easily fallen asleep myself, if it wasn't for the fact that my pride wouldn't let me.

We sat in companionable silence as the silhouette of Hogwart's castle drew ever nearer on the horizon. With a few minutes until we stopped, Ginny put down her book and reached over to where Harry half-lay, touching his cheek lightly with her fingertips. He was instantly awake, one hand reaching for his wand.

"Whoa!" Ginny drew back, hands raised defensively, "It's okay Harry, just me. We're nearly there."

Harry smiled shyly at her, "Sorry."

At that precise moment, the steam engine pulled into Hogsmeade station and let out a sigh as its klaxons ground to a halt, the noise accompanied by several loud thuds as luggage fell out of its racks all along the train. I turned to Hermione.

"'Mione? 'Mione, get up, we're here!" Gently, I prodded the sleeping form curled cat-like on the seat next to me and watched as my best friend jerked awake.

"Wh-what?"

"We're here." I repeated. She nodded drowsily,

Stretching, I got up off my seat in the compartment and reached up into the luggage rack above my head, and began lifting down various suitcases and pet-cages along with Ginny and Neville.

Dragging our trunks behind us, we stepped from the train into the chilly downpour outside. Rain whipped across my face and dampened my clothes unpleasantly.

Hogsmeade station was packed with milling students, the five of us forced to stick close together as we fought our way over to the seemingly horseless carriages.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere…'Arry! Ron! 'Ermione!" a familiar voice boomed from behind us. Turning as one, we gazed at the familiar figure of Hagrid, the ginormous Hogwart's grounds' keeper. He waved at us, and Hermione and I both acknowledged it with a smile; Harry with a curt nod. Ginny prodded me sharply in the back, whispering, "C'mon!" and we carried on to the carriages, all eager to get out of the bitter cold.

The cart was filled with a strange, intoxicating smell of damp hay and trodden dirt. The air was thick and seemed to press in on you, making it slightly claustrophobic. Still, it was far better than being in the heavy rain.

Slowly and unsteadily, our cart began to trundle up the uneven path to the main doors of the castle.

After ten long, long minutes that seemed to drag on forever, we finally arrived in front of Hogwarts' main gates. The huge pillars topped with winged boars towered over us as we jumped from the carriage, our shoes squelching in the wet mud. Tugging our heavy cases behind us, all six of us trudged up the steps to the front doors, the promise of the light and warmth inside spurring us on.

"Phew!" said Ginny, shaking her head to get the excess water out of her fiery hair once we were inside, "I'm soaked! C'mon you lot, we'd better got to the feast…"

We traipsed across the entrance hall, following the pull of the crowd around us into the Great Hall. It looked as grand as ever, the enchanted ceiling dark and rain-washed to imitate the sky outside, although luckily candles floated about the walls, lighting the enormous room. The four long house tables were grandly decked with golden plates and goblets. It suddenly reminded me that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. Groaning inwardly, I sat down with the others and hoped that the Sorting wouldn't take too long.

Draco PoV (Maddy)

I drummed my fingers, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle to notice we'd stopped. After a few minutes, I decided to give up.

"Hem hem!"

They realised what I meant and stumbled nosily out of the carriage. Suddenly, a head popped round the corner. I groaned—not again!

"Dracey!"

She ran over and sat on my lap, "I missed you so much!"

I pushed her off my knee.

"Get off Pansy!"

She looked startled for a moment: then she went back to her annoying self.

"I had better go and get my things! Bye Dracey!"

With that, she flounced out to go to find her friends. I was surprised she had any. She was so infuriating, she would never leave me alone.

I hoped that I wouldn't have to see Potter and his little gang of merry followers. I mean how stupid, following a no-hoper. At least I was going to live though this war. I was on the winning team. I was smart. I didn't do good and noble—I choose the route that I can live though.

I sauntered out of my compartment. Luckily for me I didn't see Potty, Weasel, Weaslette, Loony or Mudblood. For once, they seemed to have some sense and stayed out of my way.

I pushed past everyone, knocking some first years into the mud. They looked so small. They didn't know what was coming and frankly I didn't care. They would all be on Potty's side. The little ones always thought good would win. It wouldn't. I have seen part of His plan. It's flawless. No one would live unless they decided to join Him. Potter would not win this one.

I found Crabbe and Goyle standing by a carriage. I went in first and they followed me. Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones who followed. In came Pansy and her sad little friends. The only reason I didn't hurt them was because they were pureblood and it would displease Father.

They came in giggling as usual. I found it was very irritating, but I couldn't do anything about it—otherwise I might end up sitting with Potty and the Potheads. That reminded me, Crabbe said the most stupid thing the other day, which was, "Why don't we be friends with them?" I know he's mentally challenged but I didn't know how could be that thick.

I leaned against the seat, hoping we would arrive soon. The track seemed to me bumpier than normal and it also seemed to take longer. I saw Pansy staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I smirked and was surprised by the look she gave that she didn't faint. I wished she could be a little more discreet about her lust for me, as it was starting to put girls off me.

I looked at my hand and saw the scar, the scar that I would bear for the rest of my life. I think I was starting to hate Father as well as fear him, but the more I hated him he more I wanted to please him. He had killed so many people this time. He may have been in Azkaban but he could still kill, he could still hurt me, as well as everyone around him.

My mother tried to kill herself because of him. She locked herself in her room and slit her wrists. I don't know why she did it like that. She could have killed herself in so many other ways, but she didn't. She was still in a coma now. None of my friends knew. I didn't tell any of them about it. It would be too hard, I think. I mean, Pansy would have been all sympathetic, and Crabbe and Goyle would be too thick to know what I meant. It was best to keep it to myself. It was the only way.

The carriage came to a slow stop. I made sure Pansy got off first to try to keep her from following me, though I doubted that it had worked. As I stepped down from the coach, I saw Potty, but I ignored him. _Let him have his fun_, I thought, _It won't last long_.

Hermione PoV (Maddy) 

I was in awe. The Great Hall looked even more magical than I remembered. The floating candles glimmered and blended with the outlines of the ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick waved merrily at us and the other students as we piled in and sat down. I heard Ron grumble something—sounded like he was hungry, as per usual. I looked up at the Staff Table. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes looked over the students as he stroked his silver beard. Snape's cold glare seemed to be even colder than usual. I noticed Hagrid wasn't there, he must have still been with the First Years. I felt sorry for the First Years—they didn't know what was coming, but they would fight along with the rest of us and they would mostly be killed.

Just then, Hagrid walked in. He looked _soaked_. Cold water dripped from his beard and long hair. He sat down in his seat next to Snape, who looked down his hooked nose disapprovingly. The large man spotted us and waved frantically. We waved back, just as the First-Years came in.

They looked so small and pale! It was hard to think we were that small once, especially after all we had been through in our years here. Their eyes darted round the room nervously. I new how they felt. I saw brothers and sisters give them the thumbs up. The tatty old hat came out. The Hall held its breath and waited. As it had done for centuries it begin to sing.

_Times old and new,_

_Good and Bad,_

_United forever,_

_In our small land,_

_Winters past,_

_Winters new,_

_We will all live to see it though, _

Brave, loyal, Clever and Cunning 

_Choose your side wisely_

_We stand united_

_Seasons come, seasons go,_

_Together we stand, forever we will._

The first years looked startled. We clapped but we were all confused. Professor McGonagall came to the front and started to read names of the list. Each one came forward and tried on the hat, then ran to their table. Soon the last 1st years had been sorted and food came onto the plates like magic. I heard the first years gasp as we had done so many years before. Ron's eyes lit up as he grabbed at food and put it onto his plate. When he had got enough it looked like a mountain. He started to scoff it into his mouth. I was horrified.

"Ron!"

"What?" he said though a mouthful of food.

"Manners!"

"Sorry Hermione." he replied, his mouth still full of food. I gave up . I looked at him. He reminded me of a pig the way he ate his food. I could just imagine him putting his face right in it to try to get the most he could in the shortest about of time. I suddenly had that image in my head. I laughed. Harry and Ron looked at me, then went back to their food. I started to eat mine. I wasn't really one to eat a lot and by the time I had finished my food Ron had had seconds, thirds and fourth helpings and Harry had had two.

We had an interesting conversation over dinner, about whether the Quibbler or the Daily Prophet was the one with the most rubbish. We had just decided that it was the Daily Prophet when the puddings arrived. I thought Ron might have been full by now, but I was wrong. His eyes looked greedily at the food in front of him, Cream cakes, Sticky toffee pudding, ice cream of all flavours (and I _mean_ all flavours), muffins, cookies, chocolate, and, well, to be honest, everything—even for some reason peanut butter, probably one of Dumbledore's new favourites.

I helped myself to some blueberry muffin ice cream while Ron and Harry on the other hand had large portions of everything. I wondered how they weren't fat as they ate so much. Soon the puddings disappeared and the gold plates were left sparkling clean as they had been.

Just then, Dumbledore stood up and a sudden hush fell round the hall, even the first years knew he was a man to be treated with respect. Dumbledore opened his mouth and began speaking.

Ron's PoV (Roz) 

"Welcome, students old and new, to another year at Hogwarts." Said Dumbledore, his clear voice resounding around the hall, "Although this ought to be a time of celebration, I fear I may have to spoil the atmosphere to warn you of the impending dangers that we will soon surely face."

_Impending dangers? Does he mean what I think he means? _A wave of whispering swept across the hall. I cast a worried glance at Harry and Hermione's faces: Hermione looked as anxious as I felt, frowning up at the top table, and Harry's expression held an odd foreboding that made me sure he knew what was coming next…

The headmaster cleared his throat softly, and silence fell again.

"Perhaps I should explain," he continued, "as I am sure that some of our newer students with non-magical families will be feeling more than a little lost.

"The year before last, an incredibly dangerous Dark Wizard that many believed dead returned to strength. This wizard has powers most of you can only dream of…he would kill you as soon as look at you. He is striving to reign over the entire Wizarding World, and, aided by his loyal followers, he has a good chance of doing so. This wizard's name is…Voldemort."

I gasped, unable to help myself, as the image of the Dark Mark seemed to flash before my eyes. This rewarded me with an impatient nudge from Hermione.

"Now, a number of Voldemort's—" I winced again, "—supporters, of Death Eaters as they call themselves, are currently locked up in the Wizarding prison, Azkaban. But we must not fool ourselves that we are safe, for many are still free, as is their Lord. I am sure he will not rest until they are released.

"The only way we can overcome such immense, heartless evil is to stand together and fight it as one. We must not let petty arguments and slight differences divide us. If we begin to war among ourselves, we will be easy prey for the Dark.

"I have spoken to you before about the importance of choosing between what is right and what is easy. I must stress again how crucial this choice is. If you choose the right path, it will be a struggle and sacrifices must be made. However, at the end of this path, there lies the peace of knowing that you have done all in your power to bring about the triumph of the Light. Some of you—" For a split second, so brief I might have imagined it, I thought I saw his piecing gaze flick to Harry, "—have chosen this path, and suffered for it.

"The easy path is for weak, pitiful individuals who value their own lives above those of the thousands of others who would perish if the Dark Side prevails. Just remember, if you are ever tempted to follow this path, that although it may seem to you a way to freedom at the time, all it leads to in actuality is death and destruction.

"Here I will stop my preaching, for I am sure that you are all dying to get off to bed. But heed my words, for there may be a moment when you are forced to make that choice.

"Before you go, I have a few announcements to make. Firstly, as Professor Umbridge is no longer with us, the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts has been taken up by a new candidate. It was particularly hard to fill the post this year, as our current situation means that you must all be as skilled in defence as possible and thereby require an excellent teacher. However, filled the position has been, and, I am pleased to announce, by none other than our own Severus Snape. Quidditch season will begin as usual, in…"

"_What?" _I mouthed in disbelief to Harry and Hermione over the rest of Dumbledore's sentence, "Tell me he didn't just say that!"

Hermione shook her head, apparently lost for words. Eventually, she gasped out,

"I wasn't… I never thought…I mean, I didn't expect…" She fell silent again, still disbelievingly shaking her head.

"It's strange," said Harry softly, frowning bemusedly at the Headmaster, "Every year before now, Snape's applied for the post, but before, Dumbledore's always refused. What d'you think made him change his mind?"

I shrugged—I'd been wondering the same thing myself.

"Maybe he just decided that he'd gain more than he lost if he let Snape teach it this year," suggested Hermione, "After all, however cruel the man can be, you have to admit that he's an excellent wizard."

I was uncertain.

"Yeah, I s'pose he is…but that doesn't make up for the fact that I have a class with him. I thought I'd got away from the greasy git when I failed my Potions OWL…"

Around us, a rumbling sound echoed the hall, bringing an end to our whispered discussion—Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed us.

"Ron! The First Years!" said Hermione in alarm, jumping up and dashing off towards a group of younger students to fulfil her duties as a prefect. I got up along with Harry, and we headed towards the doors to the marble staircase, though a little slower than our friend had just done.

"Shouldn't you be helping with the First Years too?" questioned Harry, looking sideways at me as we joined the crowd flooding out into the entrance hall.

I shrugged.

"She'll have it under control." We both shared a private smile at that. Hermione was just so…so…_Hermione_!

Just as I had placed my foot on the bottom-most stair of the marble staircase, a voice rang across the room. It was familiar, cold and commanding, as though its owner usually used for bossing around other students he thought be beneath him—which he did. It was also distinctive; it could belong to only one person—a person I had dreaded seeing ever since I set foot on the Hogwart's Express six hours before.

Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, Potter!"

Both Harry and I froze, and turned to face the voice, albeit reluctantly. There was Malfoy, strutting self-importantly up to us, followed as usual by his cronies Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"What d'you want?" I said impatiently, not exactly overjoyed to see the hated Slytherin again.

"Manners, Weasley, I just wanted to have a nice little…chat…with Potter."

"Get lost." Harry snapped at him. Malfoy pretended not to hear.

"So, Potter, how was your summer? Ours was simply _delightful_…"

"Except the minor draw back of Dumbledore landing your father in Azkaban!" I retorted a little too loudly, attracting the attention of several passing students, who stopped to watch, looking curious.

"No one asked your opinion, Weasel!" came the hissed reply, before turning back to Harry, his voice over-loud so that the gathering audience could hear. "So, I repeat, how was your summer? Good? Or did the events of last term make it a bit too _serious_ for you?"

Harry stiffened beside me and I gasped, suddenly realising what Malfoy was hoping to achieve by saying all this. He was hiding insults to Harry in words that would seem meaningless to the average passer-by. It was clever…only a handful of us would know what on earth he meant.

"Why, you—" I tensed, ready to spring at him…but found I couldn't move. Turning my head slightly, I saw that Neville was clutching hard at the back of my robes.

"Don't," he whispered through clenched teeth, "It won't do any good."

"Now, now, I was just trying to _comfort_ him…" Malfoy said in a mock-emotional voice, "After all, it must have been so hard on him, losing his pet dog like that…"

"Shut UP, Malfoy!" A voice I recognised as Ginny's came from the large crowd that was now gathered, but the Slytherin continued unabated.

"Did you cry when he died?" he said savagely, "Did you? I would have loved to watch…it was quite remarkable, from what I've gathered from my—er— " his cruel eyes flicked to Neville, "—_sources_. He was hit by the spell, and then, being the idiot he was, fell through the archway…I wonder what that looked like?"

Suddenly, Malfoy froze. His face went abruptly blank, eyes widened in a mixture of horror and realisation. Agonisingly slowly, he fell backwards in a curving arc…

"No!" Harry's anguished cry rang through the hall. Malfoy had put out a foot to stop himself collapsing completely, and was laughing maliciously.

My mind had gone blank. I was upset, and confused, and blinded by rage. So I did the only thing I could think of… tore away from Neville and launched myself at the Slytherin. We were rolling over and over, struggling. Feet and fists connected with flesh, leaving it bruised and bloody. I managed to pin my opponent to the floor and began pummelling every bit of him I could reach.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

The scene freeze-framed. Students stopped jostling. Girls stopped screaming. I stopped fighting, my fist still raised in the middle of delivering another punch to Malfoy's jaw. McGonagall was standing over us, looking livid, her mouth a grim line.

"Up!" she barked at us two, and we stood immediately, both wincing as pain shot through our wounds. McGonagall turned to address everyone.

"Aroused by the noise coming from the entrance hall, I came to investigate what was causing it. Upon my arrival, I find half the school gathered here, making the most uproarious noise, while two students were actually _fighting _with each other! Can anyone explain to me _why on earth_ this has happened?"

There was a moment of silence, in which no one dared to even move. Then, bravely, Ginny broke the silence.

"It was Malfoy's fault, Professor." she said, and several people nodded in agreement.

McGonagall looked at her sharply.

"Yes, Weasley?"

"He…he was saying things to him, things that he knew would hurt him…"

"Hurt who? Your brother, I assume?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I don't mean Ron…"

"Then, who…?"

"Harry." She replied simply.

All eyes turned to where my friend stood. He had been standing, previously unnoticed, at the front of the crowd, his green eyes wide and locked on Malfoy's grey ones. He was pale, and trembling from head to toe.

"Potter…?" McGonagall queried in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Harry didn't show that he ad heard in the slightest. He was backing away, the sea of people parting behind him, his eyes still fixed on his arch-enemy. A single cracked word escaped his lips,

"Sirius…"

He turned and sprinted away up the marble stairs.

"Harry," I called, "Harry, wait!" I made to follow him, trying in vain to shove my way through the hordes of people.

"Perhaps it would be best to let Mr Potter have some time alone, Mr Weasley." I spun around, startled. There, in the doorway leading from the Great Hall, stood the tall, majestic figure of Dumbledore. His piercing blue gaze met my own, a sad smile playing around his mouth.

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, I believe Miss Weasley was saying something about what happened a minute ago?" he said calmly, "Please continue, my dear."

"Well, Malfoy was saying things to Harry…things about…" she swallowed, obviously unsure how to say it infront of so many people without giving something away, "…about him…and what h-happened in the Department of—"

The headmaster's eyes widened.

"You mean—?" he asked pointedly, and Ginny nodded.

"I see." Dumbledore's whole stance had abruptly changed. Although his expression was bland, his features had turned stony and flames of anger flickered in his blue orbs. "Every student will please proceed to his or her appropriate dormitory and the staff are to escort them and then return to their quarters—that is with the exception of Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape, and myself. We are to discuss what has just happened in my office."


End file.
